nexus_sages | (no subject)

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James T. Kirk absolutely loves marketplaces.

It's not necessarily because he's looking for anything, per se, although he does often keep an eye out for interesting books to add to his collection, or maybe a bottle of some kind of exotic alcohol, or some kind of pointless alien gizmo with which to annoy Spock with its purposeless existence. No, he just loves the sheer diversity each bazaar brings to the table.

No two markets have ever been alike, in his experience. Sure, it's not quite as exciting and mysterious as exploring deep space, but it's something of a microcosm of the same, all sorts of goods and cultures thrown into close quarters, and one never knows what one might find just down the street.

His shipboard gold uniform may stand out a bit in the crowd as he meanders along, a faint smile on his face as he leans in to examine someone's wares on display, just enjoying being out and about in the fresh air.

[OOC: Retconning Jim eating bacon in this thread. Hadn't fully considered some of the elements in his backstory at the time.]

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Expendables. What a cold, calculating term to apply to four thousand people. But it's no doubt what Kodos thought of them.

He shakes his head in response to her question, trying to find the words. "Eugenics. The old, the sick, the... 'inferior.'" He can't quite help giving that word a bitter twist, despising what it means. "Most of the kids. Nonhumans."

Children?

*That sharp crack? Nothing worth worrying about, just give her a moment to get a fresh cue.*

How far away was this place, in terms of time, from resupply? And does your Facet have faster-than-light communication?

It's probably a testament to how much he's managed to numb himself to this conversation that he doesn't even flinch at the sound of her breaking the cue. He might not even notice, avoiding making eye contact entirely. Pretending this all happened to someone else.

"We do. Wasn't as widespread back then though, outside the 'fleet. The colony was supposed to be self-sufficient, so ships would only stop by every four months. Didn't have another one due for three. Would've been all of four or five days' travel from Earth, if somebody had known."

Three months. On a planet. With thousands of able people and, presumably, the technology to support them. And on that entire planet, there wasn't three months' worth of food?

*She shakes her head.*

That sounds like a deliberate problem, to me. Where is this administrator now?

"Escaped. Maybe dead or just in hiding. No one knows."

Jim had sometimes wondered if Kodos deliberately engineered the situation to his advantage, to play out whatever sick power fantasies the man had over an effectively captive population, but to hear someone else say it... well, it's certainly something else.

Hmm. Price on his head?

*It's one thing to survive abuse, and another to have confirmed for you that it was abuse.*

He looks at her, maybe for the first time since he realized he wasn't going to be able to get out of talking about the topic he accidentally brought up. Right. She's a bounty hunter. "Yes. Preferably alive, so he can stand trial."

I can do live capture.

*She gives a thin, cold smile.*

If you ever want to be absolutely certain of finding him.

He's actually tempted to accept, no further questions asked. But he doesn't. There are few things he dreads as much as the day when Kodos will eventually come to trial, because as one of only nine surviving eyewitnesses, he knows he'll be called to testify. It's the entire reason why he can't admit to anyone that he was there, that he survived the massacre, in case the news reaches the wrong ears and someone comes to silence him.

But the waiting and uncertainty is worse. Way worse.

"You do cross-dimensional work?" he asks instead.

Everyone needs a hobby.

*Her smile is warmer, but she's keeping something back.*

Jim can't really hazard a guess at what she might not be telling him, but at the moment, he's not sure he cares. "If you want to track him down in your spare time, I'm the last guy to stand in your way."

Edited 2017-06-06 03:47 (UTC)

*She accepts that with a nod.*

Thank you. I'm surprised you're not questioning my motives more--or the perils inherent in having me visit your Facet and meddle in your history.

He shrugs a little. "Let's be honest, I probably couldn't stop you if I tried. Not sure how much difference it'd make if I knew why you wanted to, either." If it's just for the money, perfectly understandable. If there's some deeper personal reason, it's not like it's his business unless she wants it to be.

I'm dangerous, not indestructible. Not that I give my enemies any reason to realize that...

*She chuckles quietly to herself, then shakes her head, returning her focus to Jim.*

Why do you think I do what I do? Hunt people, kill people, break planets when I have to?

Jim frowns a little. "You told me why you're going after the people who destroyed your home. Figured most of it was related."

I told you what happened to me. Is that why I do it?

*Her gaze is as level as her voice, inviting Jim to consider the question, and all the information he's been given, fully.*

He does, much to his own surprise. And not just the words, though there have been plenty of those. Actions speak louder, or so they say, and she's done a hell of a lot in the past hour or so since they first met. She turned a simple sparring session to let off some steam into a pointed psychological assault on his oldest source of anger and frustration, refused to let him drown away the revelation, and now she's letting him have some kind of fighting chance at pool. Maybe for fun, maybe for some other reason known only to her.

"Maybe not," he concedes.

*That earns him a slight nod, as of teacher to student.*

Then what is?

He really hopes this isn't some kind of trick question. He hasn't known her nearly long enough to know for certain; all he can do is make the best educated guess he can. "Others either can't or won't do it themselves, and you have the power to change that."

That's... fairly close. If we're being completely honest, I hunt the Space Pirates and people like them because they created me, and no one should have to be me. So I stop them. It's not an entirely healthy mindset, but I make it work.

*She gives another brief smile, this one more of a self-deprecating smirk.*

That said, I won't enter or influence your Facet uninvited. I'm aware I would be a guest, and that means something to me.

He's hardly in any kind of position to judge anyone for their coping mechanisms, so Jim just nods slowly, considering what she's said.

Some cultures in his universe's Federation value guests in all kinds of ways, so he doesn't make any assumptions on what that means. "Are there, uh, hospitality rules where you're from?"

Hey, if nothing else, it's a welcome break from talking about Tarsus IV directly.

The Chozo have some opinions on the subject, yes. Someone who enters your home uninvited, destroying and rearranging the contents at their whim and according to their sensibilities, is more rightly considered an intruder. I imagine your people would share that opinion, at the least.

"Yeah, that one's almost universal." Somehow he manages a smile.

Multiversal.

*She smirks.*

So. I probably could physically batter past you, force my way into your Facet, and start righting whatever I saw as wrongs, but I won't. I'll offer no more help than you ask for and I think you're worth. It might be as little as a few words of advice here in the Nexus, it might be pulling together a multiversal setup for performing open-heart surgery on a star.

*She catches herself, then continues in the tone of an admission.*

GalFed doesn't know about that one, and I'd rather keep it that way. Probably better not to mention it to your commanders, either, hmm?

Open-heart surgery on a star? Jim shakes his head a little. "I'm not telling them a lot of what's happened here. I'd sound crazy anyway and they wouldn't believe me."